


I've Got You Under My Skin

by OhOkayGrey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comedy, Dom!Kylo, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Han fucked up and owes the Mafia, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo is basically in the Mafia, Kylo wants her to eat more than PB & J, Loss of Virginity, New York City, Overprotective!Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Reader is a hopeless romantic, Reader is a starving artist, Reader is an Orphan, Reader keeps taking in injured gang members against her better judgement, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Sortof, Sugar Daddy, This is not Hux/Reader Hux is just about it, if you know what i mean, lots of Frank Sinatra, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-06-12 04:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhOkayGrey/pseuds/OhOkayGrey
Summary: Artist!Reader/Kylo RenNew York has always been a city for dreamers and makers, so it only made sense for you to leave behind your microscopic hometown to make a name for yourself in the “Big Apple”. You packed your paints, got your cliché studio apartment, and you weren’t doing too bad for yourself- I mean, you couldn’t remember the last time you had anything but a PB & J to eat, and you were pretty sure that the complex you lived in was in gang territory, but it could be worse!A story in which Kylo Ren is born into the Mafia- sort of, and the Reader is a hopeless romantic who’s just trying to sell her paintings.





	1. Fly Me To The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Largely reworked and combined with the original chapter 2 for a better flow. Sorry for any typos and much love,   
> Grey

In bright red that always made your eyes ache first thing in the morning, the clock read three quarters past six. A small shiver ran up your spine as the cold began to set into your bones, muscles stiff and straining as you curled into yourself. Loose threads tickled your calf, and fabric smooth and worn as a polished rock fought hard despite being nearly threadbare to lock in what little heat your body radiated. Your heater must’ve been broken again. Fog hung outside the shitty window that you so loved, casting the outside world into a soft haze that was reminiscent of an old home movie that sat in the attic a little too long. Condensation sat like a filter on the glass, and in the stale morning you swore you could almost feel the last little bit of warmth left inside make its way past the pane and out towards the busy street. Glassy eyes drifted over the peeling paint and crooked nails sticking out of the trim, and they rested there as the sounds of your apartment complex fell on deaf ears. 

Blinking, you started slightly when the dreamy voice of Sinatra roared to life one crackling note at a time, exhausted speakers trying their damnedest to keep up with the lilting honey radiating from that same little clock, now proudly displaying 7 o’clock. Like everything else you owned, it was on its last leg, and had been for long enough to warrant surprise each time it actually worked.

‘Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On a, Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, baby, kiss me’

Brain turning on, you slowly became painfully aware of the chill settling into your bones, thus abandoning the sliver of comfort beneath your speckled blanket in favor of heat throw movement. Rolling over, you felt your back shift and pop into place while you eyed the ceiling before casting a brave glance at the warzone that you called home.  
It was trashed.

You hadn’t saved up for a desk yet, so a lone easel stood in front of the looming window, overlooking the street that always seemed to be home to angry tenants and bristling street fights, but never seemed to find a cop gracing the pavement. An unfinished portrait all in hues of blue occupied it, untouched for the better part of three days. There were tubes of paint scattered all over the floor, accompanied of course by brushes, tape, and half full cups of water. Also on the ground were several other pieces- some finished, others still under construction, and a growing pile of clothing that started at the base of your tiny closet and crept across the entire 400 square feet of the room.  
Empty peanut butter tubs littered the little counter space you did have, along with god only knows what else, and the miniature bathroom was overflowing with makeup and hair products that you seldom even used anymore.  
The only things that you managed to keep up with were the bed, and the walls. The walls were covered in paintings you were truly proud of, along with hundreds of pictures and magazine covers, all displayed proudly between rows and rows of string lights. Occasionally your impulses would get the better of you and you’d find yourself carrying home fresh flowers which you could never really part with, instead hanging them to dry from every bare spot on the wall you could find. 

Groaning, you lifted your hands to massage your temples, idly noting that you hadn’t remembered to get any of the paint off of them before you crawled into bed the night before. Reaching out, you turned off your alarm before attempting to extract your limbs from tangled sheets and start your day.  
It was your third month in New York, and you had been meaning to clean up for a while now, but you were furiously painting to try and keep up with bills.  
The life of an artist was what you had always dreamed of; spending all day creating sounded like heaven. Stepping over a jar of paintbrushes and into the corner of your room known as the kitchen, you opened the cupboard door with the broken hinge that you were astonished hadn’t fallen off yet, and couldn’t help but admit to yourself that maybe this life wasn’t as glamorous as you had imagined. Scrolling through your phone groggily, you threw on a playlist full of true love, beautiful people and places, and most importantly, exciting encounters. It was embarrassing to admit, but you were most certainly a hopeless romantic.  
Stomach growling, you stared at your salvation in the form of a stale, singular heal of bread. Grabbing the unfortunate slice of wheat, you popped it into the toaster without bothering to check the fridge for any jelly- you knew you needed to buy some groceries today.  
First thing was first though, you needed to deliver a painting.  
Snagging a hair tie off the counter you attempted to corral your bedhead into a bun while searching the floor for a pair of jeans that hopefully didn’t smell too bad. Hair in place, you picked up a dark wash pair of denim that you didn’t want to admit was two sizes to big and tentatively brought it up to your nose. It could be worse, so you began to tug them on with a shrug.  
Suddenly smelling your breakfast about to go up in flames while struggling to get your foot through the slim leg of your pants, you hopped towards the kitchen, flailing and only having succeeded in tripping over an unidentifiable evil object (probably another questionable jar of peanut butter), and accidentally breaking a lone paintbrush.  
“Fucking evil toaster!” Knowing it was all for naught and that your poor bread would be charred by now regardless, you stood and angrily wiggled into the jeans that smelled worse than you originally thought and slapped the chrome slayer of your sustenance a couple of times until the blackened bread emerged. Your toaster was broken, and as you hung your head and dropped the damned bread into the sink, goosebumps spread across your skin reminding you that the heater was still broken. Grabbing the only glass in your house that wasn’t full of paint water, you held it under the tap and turned it on, only to watch it sputter before it stopped coming out altogether. Cautiously, you reached out to prod the spigot. Nothing happened, and against your better judgement you gave it one more, tiny, little, poke.  
Moments later your hands were surging to turn of the faucet, before tugging off a soaked nightshirt with a frustrated screech. Dropping the soggy clothing on the floor, you gave up on your morning all together and pulled a sweater over your head before bundling up in your tattered coat and smothering your neck in a giant scarf. Slipping on sneakers and slinging your oversized purse over your shoulder and grabbing your painting, you walked out of the apartment that had once been what you dreamt of, and slammed the door behind you.  
Your MetroCard expired tomorrow, you were out of food, and your home was a shithole- but, as you glimpsed the corner of your hard work sticking out of your bag, you remembered that if you could just make it safely across town, you would be getting paid to do what you loved. Taking a deep breath, you reached for your phone (that had a bill due the day after tomorrow, god damnit) and put your headphones in and felt yourself smile. It would be okay.  
‘Fill my heart with song  
And let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, I love you’

Having calmed down, you snuggled into your layers and tried to stay warm despite the frigid wind as you treaded through the thin layer of snow on the concrete. Immune to your efforts of distracting yourself with your favorite songs, you still noticed the groups of men that often lingered around your apartment and stared whenever you walked by. You lived in a bad part of town, there was definitely no denying that- but it was just busy enough that as long as you didn’t go out at night, you would be safe.  
At least, that’s what you always told yourself.

You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed and uncomfortable on the Subway. Having always been an incredibly sensitive person who grew up around very few people, being in a crowd made you more jittery than you liked to admit, and it didn’t help that you were very small in stature. As the doors opened you made it your mission to board quickly and try and find a seat, but the mob was larger than usual that morning, and everyone else had the same idea; and a lot more weight to throw around than you. Watching all of the seats disappear quicker than you could move, you tried to wiggle your way to a pole to hold onto before the doors closed. Salvation in sight, you began to reach for the shiny silver and claim your place, but your appliances weren’t the only thing giving you trouble today.  
Just as Sinatra’s sweet words of love and troubles began to fill your ears once more, promises of love and literal breathless charm, fate collided with you in the form of sweaty balding man keen on taking your spot. Squawking and tumbling into the person behind you, you opened your mouth to yell at the inconsiderate asshole who had ruined your chances as the doors slid closed, only for your words to die on your tongue as a strong arm snaked around your waist the moment that the ground you stood on lurched forward. Gasping at the contact, you craned your neck back to peer at the handsy stranger, unsure whether to be all the more angry, or thankful as you quickly surged through the underpass. Your mind went completely blank when you locked eyes with the most beautiful man you had ever seen.  
You knew it was stupid, everyone had tried to tell you real life was nothing like the movies, but heaven above- how could you help it now?  
Irises the color of bitter melted chocolate, smooth olive skin, pallid in color and smattered with beauty marks, and a strong aquiline nose situated above dangerously full lips left you fucking reeling. Breath stolen away with a quickness, cheeks reddening, your own lips parted as your brain worked frantically to remember every detail of the handsome stranger before you realized that you were making a complete fool of yourself. Squeaking in embarrassment you closed your mouth and turned away from the impossibly bored looking man as fast as possible so as to save the little dignity that you had left.  
What kind of cruel fate was it that you had landed in the real life Adonis’ arms looking like you did today? It was impossible to calm down as your back pressed against him, head barely reaching the top of his chest. He was tall. His hand, nestled underneath the coat you hadn’t bothered to zip, covered nearly half of your stomach, erupting with butterflies as you soaked up the impossible warmth radiating off of him. Your train of thought quickly switched gears despite your best effort to keep your mind out of the gutter, and your blush darkened as heat pooled low in your abdomen.  
‘Fuck. I should not be letting this happen.’  
Almost as if he knew the shameful turn your thoughts had taken, you felt his thumb drag across your sweater before his fingers met the edge of the thick fabric, pausing a moment before brushing across your bare skin. You went rigid, a shiver running up your spine as you impulsively pressed your legs closer together. Suddenly his indifferent aura shifted entirely, beginning to feel dangerous in its curiosity. You could feel him smirking, emitting nothing but pure arrogance as he let his long appendages trail idly across your burning skin.  
In the back of your mind, you knew that this was entirely inappropriate, that he was literally just screwing with you, but you felt powerless to stop it. You were glued to the spot, fused to the stranger who held you close and evoked awful thoughts in your brain. This was too much for your not so innocent self to handle; though a man had certainly never touched you like this before- you couldn’t help but shift into his touch almost imperceptibly. Almost. Not a moment after you moved did you feel his digits creep towards the waistband of your jeans before slipping under and tugging on the cotton of your panties. Jumping, he tightened his grip on you and massaged your hip as your heartrate skyrocketed. Feeling the engine spool down in preparation for the next stop, his grip loosened before letting go completely, sending you staggering into the same man who had started all of this in the first place. Regaining your balance, you ignored the all but forgotten asshole as he yelled at you, “Watch it kid!” And tucked your chin down into your scarf before scurrying off of the Subway quicker than you ever had been able to before.  
This wasn’t even your stop.

Two hours of being painfully lost later, your hand reached up to knock on the door lightly, maybe too lightly? Probably. Shifting nervously, you caught yourself chewing on your lip and let out a huff, realizing you needed to calm down.  
This was ridiculous! You were almost 20 years old for heaven’s sake; hardly a little girl anymore, and much too old to be so out of sorts because a random (painfully, sinfully, handsome) creep decided to be handsy. Handsy he was though, and you couldn’t honestly say you had truly wanted it to stop, remembering the feeling of his hand as it swam across your skin and-  
The door swung open suddenly, “Hi! It’s good to see you again, I’m sorry I took so long to get the damn door. I wasn’t sure if I actually heard you knock, should’ve turned down my music. Oh it’s chilly out here, please, come in!”

~

After kicking off your shoes and politely accepting an offer for a warm cup of coffee, you contentedly visited with the warm young woman, time passing by quickly. You and Rey had been talking for weeks, having met at a little Sunday market you had managed to worm your way into prior that year. Genuinely interested in and excited by your work, you two immediately formed a budding friendship. Thus, when the days grew closer to the birthday of Rey’s beloved aunt, who had taken her in when she was a young girl after the untimely death of her father, she had excitedly called you and practically begged you to paint something for the occasion. At first you were hesitant- it was always scary making something for someone you actually knew, but you needed the money and had gathered that the outgoing young woman was rather wealthy. That alone, as much as you hated to admit it, turned it into an offer you couldn’t refuse- not when there was a possibility of a big paycheck. Conversation lulling, she sat up a little straighter then, her mind having gone to the same place. 

“Oh! I don’t know how but I almost forgot about the painting! Show it to me!” 

She was practically beaming, bright brown eyes glittering as she made motion towards the bag next to your feet. Her excitement was contagious despite your nerves, so you eagerly lurched down and began fishing through your bag and making sure nothing was caught on the edges of the frame. Carefully, you pulled the piece in question from your satchel and gave it one last fleeting look before passing it into her eager hands.

Hesitantly watching her expression, you subconsciously returned to biting at your lip as you watched her gasp, eyes widening while taking in the visage of the young woman you had painstakingly brushed into life, layer by layer, color by color.  
“It’s… perfect. She is going to absolutely love it- I absolutely love it!”  
She set it on the counter gently, before her arms wrapped around your smaller frame in what was probably one of the best hugs you had ever had. With a shy eagerness you returned the gesture, softly placing your hands around her slender middle.  
“You’re incredible, I cannot thank you enough.” The words were spoken into your hair in earnest, and the bubbly feeling in your body consumed you, practically humming at her praise.  
“N-no! Thank you, really, it means so much to me that you trusted me with this,” you responded, positively beaming as you pulled back to smile, trying to convey your gratitude with a grin, one that you had been told was rather cheesy- but at the moment, you didn’t have it in you to be bashful.  
Shaking her head, she just laughed and gave you one last squeeze before once again moving to admire your work. Her fingers traced lightly over the glass of the frame, absentmindedly drawing lines over the face and figure.  
“You really nailed her hairstyle,” she said with a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate the laugh as you recalled your initial shock at the hearty space-buns in your reference picture.  
“I’m glad, it was definitely a first for me!”  
Your conversation carried on naturally, and the two of you found yourself in the dining room of the little townhouse, enjoying one more cup of coffee as you chatted about said woman. You listened in earnest as Rey shared more about Leia, and her days as an activist in the seventies. Intrigued by the exciting stories, you found yourself fully engrossed by all the juicy details of her handsome husband, a man named Han, who was one of New York’s best thieves; he had a heart of gold though, Rey assured. Before you knew it, it was close to noon, and you realized regretfully that you still had to go shopping.  
Telling her as much, you exchanged goodbyes with the promise of seeing each other again soon. Shoes tied, bag slung, and headphones in hand, you waved happily before stepping back into the crisp air and throwing your phone on shuffle. Humming softly, you quietly sang along to the melody in your ears.

‘How glad the many millions  
Of Annabelle's and Lilian's  
Would be, to capture me  
But you had such persistence  
You wore down my resistance  
I fell, and it was swell  
I'm your big and brave and handsome Romeo  
How I won you I shall never, never know  
It's not that I'm attractive  
But oh, my heart grew active  
When you came into view’

Feeling too rude to have done it in front of Rey, you shuffled into the corner of the grocery and awkwardly fingered through the cash she had given you earlier. Tilting your head at the number, you recounted, figuring you had miscalculated, but sure enough you got the same amount. She had tipped you after all- and generously at that. Gratitude filled you, doing your best to contain your excitement at the prospect of the extra food, and maybe even some new art supplies. Grabbing a cart, you fished out your list and began filling it with about a week’s worth of food; that was all you could carry.  
Checking out and grabbing your bags, you practically skipped out of the store despite the strain on your admittedly scrawny arms, on cloud nine after selling your work to someone so wonderful. Your body on autopilot, you began your trek to the Subway-  
The Subway.  
You had almost forgotten about the incident this morning, and your sudden recollection had you wanting to run and hide. What if you saw him again?  
Nonsense! You shook your head furiously, chiding yourself with a quipped reminder that there were over eight million people in your little state. Steeling your resolve, you continued in your original direction hastily, eager to be safeish in your little rundown apartment.  
Face drawn, you boarded the metro with more gusto than ever, this time managing to snag a seat.  
There, not so bad. You chastised the part of your brain that had both hoped and feared that you would see the man again, mentally batting away your childish fantasies to little avail. You quickly realized that the encounter was hardly anything you were just going to forget, and despite your best efforts, on your ride back you had spun an elaborate tale of your reunion, which of course would lead to you two inevitably falling in mad and passionate love, and living happily ever after.  
Sighing wistfully at your daydream, you jolted as you realized it was your stop, and scrambled to the doors. Regaining a morsel of your composure, you got lost in your music once more, thoughts of ebony hair and chocolatey eyes swirling together in your head like a mysterious and dangerous cocktail.  
Before you knew it you had reached the little street in front of your abode, and you smiled brightly at the kind man who frequented the corner of the lot.  
“Good afternoon Sir!” You called his attention to you. He smiled and returned your greeting. You set down your bags on the sidewalk, quickly locating the one that was just for him. The middle aged man had been situated there since you had moved in, and knowing first-hand how unfriendly your neighbors were, you took it upon yourself to make sure he received at least a bit of kindness.  
“They had some good looking apples and peaches so there’s lots of those, and then peanut butter and snack bars as usual!”  
Handing him the assigned bag, you shook your head at him as his protested like usual.  
“You really don’t have to do this, I promise I’m alright,” the words seemed so honest but you knew better, and refused to let him get his way.  
“I insist!”  
Sighing, he gave up and took the provisions defeatedly. “What is such a nice young gal like you doing in this part of town? It’s not safe here,” his voice was laced with concern, and you shifted uncomfortably at the reminder that you definitely lived in gang territory.  
You had heard the whispers, talk of “The First Oder” and “The Resistance”, two infamous rival gangs; the former was thought to be linked to the remains of the Mafia.  
“I know, but it’s all I can afford right now, and it’s not so bad! As long as I am careful nothing will happen. Besides, I’m sure most of the talk around here is gossip.”  
Shaking his head at you, he simply told you to be careful once more before he ushered you off into your apartment, and you parted with a little wave. Unlocking the door was awkward with the weight of your food pulling down tired arms, but you managed to jiggle it just right and gain entry into the stuffy space. Dropping your armful onto the floor, you kicked the door closed before fidgeting out of your shoes. You glanced at the clock, lazily noting that it was about 3:00.  
Tapping at your phone screen absentmindedly, you tossed your phone on the bed. Jazz came to life in the little room with a flourish, and you swayed your hips and tapped your toes while happily filling your fridge and pantry. You tucked the rest of your cash under your mattress (a stupid move you were sure you would regret), and quickly took stock of your kitchen while deciding what to eat. Your day had been pretty overwhelming, and it wasn’t until you were home that you noticed your stomach growling. Grabbing some triple berry jelly- very fancy for you, and a new jar of no stir peanut butter (also fancy), you quickly assembled a delectable PB & J, scarfing it down with gusto.  
After tossing your dishes in the sink, you flopped onto your bed contentedly, sinking into your mattresses welcoming embrace. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, you began to reflect on your day.  
Overall, it had been a good one, if not a little… unexpected. You snuggled deeper into your covers as your thoughts quickly drifted to the little crush you had developed. There was no denying that he was handsome- in your opinion, easily the most striking person you had ever seen. Such strong features, accompanied by a body to die for- you wondered if he had beauty marks akin to the ones smattered across his face spread across his chest? He looked almost Roman, and you would be willing to bet that he had a dusting of dark hair spanning over his smooth skin, probably trailing across his firm stomach and down to-  
No!  
You really were awful, cheeks smudged rouge as you reached for a pillow to scream in. This was no good, you were never going to sleep at this rate, your mind was racing.  
A lightbulb went off in your head. Jolting, you leaned off your bed awkwardly, groping around on the floor for your sketchbook and a pencil. Finding both, you squirmed back into bad and hurriedly got to work on the stupid face that was plaguing you.  
Hours passed and your hands slowly darkened as charcoal began to coat your fingers. At some point the sun began to fade and you passively plugged in your lights, resuming your work eagerly and only pausing to waddle to the bathroom. Absolute concentration circulated through your veins, until eventually you were staring right into his eyes all over again.  
There was still a lot of work to be done, but a yawn escaped your lips, and tired eyes followed suit. Admiring the face in your hands, you set it down on the floor softly before tugging your lights off and squirming underneath your covers. Rest came to you with surprising ease, and you drifted off to the soothing sound of swing. You dreamt of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up y’all


	3. UPDATE AND INFO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read for info!

Hi everyone! I’ve been pretty disconnected from reading and writing for a while now, and just recently started to take the time to read and just realized all of the wonderful feedback I’ve received on this! I’m so sorry for the delay, but wanted to let everyone know I have a better idea of what I want to do with this, and therefor will be reworking and then continuing this story <3 thank you guys for your patience, and please feel free to comment and or message me with anything you’d like to see worked into this! Much love, Grey

**Author's Note:**

> So I have just about no idea what I’m doing, and this is pretty short, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it!


End file.
